A Woman's Devotion (Phantom Of The Opera x Reader)

16. Cowboy Con Man

Y/n's POV:

The next day, Erik drove into Elam with Nadir's rickety cart and old horse. Elam, in comparison to the bustling Paris and New Orleans cities I had grown accustomed to, was practically nothing. A handful of residential dwellings, a cotton gin, and a cluster of stores. This alone made up the majority of Elam.

Still, it was a pleasant little town, especially with the bright August sunshine radiating upon it.

The thing to attract Erik and me to the small town was a wide enclosure, packed to the brim with cattle. Erik, at first hearing the low bellows of a cow, brightened after the back-aching, dusty ride here. Then, as his eyes landed on the enclosure, a shadow darkened his face.

 "Really, they ought to have a larger enclosure. That's far too many cows for one of that size."

Erik reined Nadir's old horse to the enclosure, then halted the horse. After getting down himself, he helped my descent, and nervously, I approached the cowboy manning the enclosure.

 "Howdy, folks. The name's Daniel McCoy. What can I do for ya?" He asked, with one dashing wink for me and a firm handshake for Erik.

Erik, disconcerted by his glance at me, gripped his hand a little too tightly. I glanced down at my blue calico dress awkwardly. 

 "Sir, we are in need of some cattle to begin turning a profit on our homestead. I've heard tale that yours are the finest in the area."

The cowboy nodded heartily, shoving both hands into the pockets of his overalls.

 "You've got that right, fella. What type of cows ya lookin' to raise? For beef, dairy, calves, or whatever else, ya know?"

 "Dairy, if you please, sir."

Erik was far too refined, after years in a Paris opera house, for bargaining over fair prices on cattle, but life had dealt us a bizarre hand. And here we were.

 "Dairy, ya say? And how many cows are you lookin' to buy?"

 "Four, sir. And a bull."

That had been mine and Erik's decided-upon number. Five cows, at least in the beginning, did not seem like too much to manage, and it probably wouldn't drain the two hundred and ten dollars left to our name completely dry.

 "Judging by your cart and how tired your daughter looks, you had a bit of a ride to reach our Elam?"

 "My wife, thank you." Erik said through his teeth. 

  "You don't say! Fancy folk like you surprise me every day," McCoy only laughed, then added, "but did you come a long way?"

This question, for whatever reason, was directed at me.

I, however, didn't see how this question was pertinent to purchasing cows, but perhaps the cowboy was only trying to make conversation. Without thinking, I answered in my broken English.

 "We've been on road for hours."

Erik glared at me, though I couldn't understand why. The expression caused unease to lay heavy on my stomach.

 "You don't say? Well, let me take a look at my cows, and I'll get back to you."

 "What were you thinking, Y/n?" Erik hissed, once the cowboy had disappeared into his overcrowded herd.

 "What? I just told the truth. We have ridden a long way to get here. What's wrong with admitting it?"

 "That's how they swindle you, my dear!"

Erik was growing frustrated, probably from the long ride here and breakfast's rapid disintegration in his system. Even then, I didn't understand what he meant.